Oblivion
by htdcd
Summary: Ignorance is bliss, right? HP/SS, post-Hogarts, non-canon after HBP, character death(s), rated M (18 ) for male-male sexual situations and suggestive language.
1. Chapter 1

_HP/SS, character death, post-Hogwarts, rated M (18+) for male-male sexual content. Non-canon past late DH, plus Snape!lives. _

_Disclaimer: Rights to Harry Potter & Universe belong to JK Rowling & WB; no copyright infringement is intended or implied._

_A/N: BAM! Done! Chapters have been proofed and edited and will be updated, but the rest of the story will be posted in chunks. But it's done! You're welcome. :)_

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_OBLIVION_

"May I help you, sir?" The non-descript receptionist looked up at the patron standing at the check-in desk.

"Yes," the young man replied. "I have something I wish to forget."

"Of course," the receptionist gave a bland smile and handed the man a clipboard. "Please fill out the information sheets."

The man took the clipboard to one of the industrially upholstered chairs in the unwelcoming waiting room and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. He poised the clipboard on his leg and began to read the forms, quickly checking boxes off here and there, and making necessary explanations where required. He signed the last page with a flourish and made his way back up to the counter, clipboard and completed papers in hand.

"I've finished," he handed the documents and the pen back to the receptionist.

She took them from him and took the papers off the clipboard, placing them in queue in a metal document holder. "Someone will be with you shortly to take you back for a consultation."

"Thank you," he responded, and headed back to the uncomfortable chair.

The minutes ticked by as he passed the time counting dots on the ceiling, the frays in the carpet, and the hairs on the back of his hands. Both of them.

"Mr. Potter?" A light voice called from the door leading back to the patient rooms.

Harry stood, smoothed his hands down his trousers, and made his way over to the woman standing in the doorway.

"If you'll follow me, please, we'll be heading into room three," she gestured in front of her and to the left, guiding him into a room not far down the hall. "Please," she waved her arm at the chair on the far side of the room. "Have a seat."

This chair was far more comfortable than the ones in the waiting room, and it gave Harry a feeling like he thought he might have if he were in a Muggle psychiatrist's office, getting ready to spill his feelings to the person across from him.

"My name is Hermione Granger, and I'll be doing your intake consultation today," she reached out her hand to shake Harry's, and then sat down in the opposing armchair. "I've looked over your paperwork, and I have a basic idea of what your situation is, but I'd appreciate it if you could tell me in your own words why you've come to us today."

"I – I have someone I wish to forget."

"Some_one_?" Hermione emphasized the person-related ending.

"Yes," Harry continued, looking uncomfortable for a moment, then plowing ahead. "I was recently in a relationship. It wasn't working out. We split."

"Pardon my being insensitive, Mr. Potter, but people break up all the time. Why do you feel the need to resort to such drastic measures for this particular person?"

"Our involvement was quite serious. We had plans to be bonded. The separation," Harry stopped short. "I'm not sure I can heal on my own," he finished.

"How long were you together?" Hermione asked.

"Two years," he answered solemnly.

"And how long has it been since the relationship ended?" she asked him, looking down at his forms.

"Over a year."

Hermione's head snapped up. Her face conveyed her surprise; she clearly had expected a shorter time frame.

"Like I said," Harry said dryly, "I've tried to move on; I've reached the end of my rope. Drastic is all I have left to try."

"Is she," Hermione began.

"He," Harry interrupted her.

"He?" she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Yes. I was in a relationship with another man. He."

Hermione stared at him for a brief moment before looking down and making a note on his paperwork.

"How did you become aware of our services?" she asked him.

"I was referred by someone I know," he answered.

She frowned slightly. "Was this reference one of our clients?"

"No," he clarified. "Someone who was familiar with your work and thought I might be able to benefit from your treatments."

"How familiar are you with exactly what our treatments entail?"

"Familiar enough," his lips pressed into a thin line.

She regarded him steadily, her pen pressed against her lips.

"I know how an Obliviate curse works, Ms. Granger."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," she shifted forward with the air of wanting to launch into a lecture.

"Which is why I haven't simply asked one of my friends to do it to me," he very nearly rolled his eyes.

"It's quite important that our clients understand the serious differences between a simple Obliviate curse, or the use of a Pensieve, and our procedures."

"I can assure, you, I am well aware," he crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back. "And I can say with the utmost confidence that this is something I will never, _ever_, want to have undone."

Her eyes flickered down to his paperwork, seeming to read one of his notations regarding one of the survey questions.

"The whole reason I came to your office was because this procedure is permanent."

She looked back up at him. "People often think they want to forget something – or someone – but that turns out not to be the case."

Harry uncrossed his arms and gripped the dark leather arms of the chair, leaning forward in what he tried to not make a menacing way. "Believe me, Ms. Granger; I want nothing more than to forget I ever knew this person even existed."

Seeming placated, Hermione settled back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Very well, Mr. Potter," she acquiesced. "Why don't you tell me your side of the story?"

Harry began at the beginning, telling Hermione how he met his partner, how they came to know each other at first. He led her through how they met, how they courted each other, the slow build to the serious relationship they had both desired. He was honest when he said things hadn't been perfect – they were very different people; many of their friends wondered how they managed to be happy together. He described the beginning of their relationship: going out together, making their relationship publicly known, moving in together, travelling together, the spontaneity that a new relationship brings.

"It wasn't just one thing," Harry finally came to the fracturing point in the story. "It wasn't something I said one day or something he said that – that broke us. It was…we both made such bad choices. _Bad_ choices. I don't know how we didn't see how bad they were at the time. It should have been obvious to both of us that we were hurting each other. It was like we wanted to hurt each other. The pain," his voice broke. "The pain was so deep." A tear escaped his watering eyes and rolled down his cheek. He swiped it away brusquely. "It's like we forgot we ever loved each other. We couldn't…we couldn't find the love anymore. I don't know where it went."

Harry put his head down in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He sat like that for a while, and then Hermione cleared her throat.

"Sorry," he raised his face back up and leaned back in the chair to continue. "He was – I loved him. I planned to spend the rest of my life with him. He was my life; I wanted him to be my life. Now that we're…it's like everything I see reminds me of him. Everything I touch, everything I smell, every taste, every sound. It's like his essence is just woven into the air I breathe. I try to escape, but my memory of him is like a cloud that suffocates me when I try to catch my breath."

He wondered if he was imagining the misting in her eyes.

"I honestly," he kept going. "I honestly believe that I will never be able to love anyone else ever again. I want," he shook his head. "I _need_ to be able to forget him. I need it to be like he was never there."

"You realize the length of your relationship will make the treatment very difficult."

"Like I said," Harry gave her a rueful grin. "I'm not asking one of my mates to just wave a wand at me."

"Very well," she conceded, and opened a drawer in the desk next to her armchair, pulling a thick packet out and handing it over to Harry. "You'll need to familiarize yourself with the information in our waiver. Once you've read it and signed it, bring it back and we can schedule you for the procedure."

"Can't I stay and fill it out here?" Harry was disappointed.

"I'm afraid not," she said, standing and opening the door for him. "I think you'll find it will take quite a while to read through all the legalities and liabilities. It's important you have a thorough understanding of the risks the procedure entails. It would be irresponsible of us to rush you through it."

Harry nodded reticently. He, too, rose from his armchair and followed her out of the office, taking the packet from her.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," she said, extending her hand again to shake goodbye. Harry took her hand and let her open the waiting room door for him, and he left the office with the hope that -soon, he could start putting his life back together.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Can I help you, sir?" Harry Potter looked up to see the customer who had entered the shop, triggering the tinkling bell above the door. The man caught Harry's eye, then shook his head slightly, indicating he didn't need immediate assistance. Harry went back to taking the weekly inventory.

Harry became so engrossed in his bookkeeping that he jumped when he heard a query from behind him.

"Do you have the first edition of Spellor's Theories?" the man from earlier asked in a low, silken voice. It had been quite some time since he had entered the store, and Harry thought perhaps the man had left and he had not heard the bell.

"Sorry?" Harry turned to face the customer. He was taller than Harry was by several inches, although that was not surprising, given Harry's unimposing stature.

"Spellor's Theories," the man repeated, his black eyes conveying annoyance. "This is the third edition. I am in need of the first. Do you have it?"

"Oh," Harry said, reaching out for the book, which the man handed over. He flipped open the cover and waved his wand over the publisher page. It glowed a faint blue and Harry snapped the book shut. "Sorry, we're out. But I can order it for you and have it by the end of the week."

"That will be acceptable," the man did not take the book back from Harry, who held it out and then sat it down on the counter when it became clear that the customer wasn't going to take it.

"Can I have your name, sir? And your Owl post?" Harry took out a large, leather-bound book and quill to record the information.

"Snape," the man said, peering down his large, crooked nose at Harry's penmanship. "Severus."

"Did I spell it right?" Harry turned the book around for Snape to see it.

Snape made a distasteful face, perhaps at Harry's messy scrawl. "Yes," he confirmed.

"Post?" Harry looked back down to the page, ready to write.

"Spinner's End," Snape told him.

Harry made a note of the text to be ordered and then snapped the book shut, replacing it under the counter. "It will be here by the end of the week. I'll Owl you once it arrives. You'll pay when you pick it up."

Snape nodded curtly and turned to leave the store. As he approached the door, it opened, the bell tinkling lightly. Snape stepped aside to let the man in.

"Oi, Harry!" Neville called. "Sorry lunch took longer than I – Oh!" he stopped short when he saw Snape standing, waiting to leave the store. "I didn't notice…Professor," he nodded his head in greeting, but there was no mistaking his discomfort as his eyes darted back and forth between Snape and Harry.

Snape gave Neville a strange look before ducking out of the store and disappearing down the street.

"What did he want?" Neville asked as he approached the counter.

"First edition of Spellor's Theories," Harry answered. "D'you know him?" Harry hadn't missed Neville's greeting.

"Oh, I – yeah," Neville's eyes stared at the floor. "Erm, he was…he worked with Gran – I met him a – a few times."

"He was a teacher? I didn't know your Gran worked with teachers." Harry questioned as he rummaged around the drawer.

"No, uh," Neville floundered. "Research professor. All theoretical, nothing practical."

"Makes sense, then," Harry squatted down, his voice muffled by the cabinet and thick carpet. "That he'd want the Theories text."

"Erm, right," Neville agreed quickly. "I'll be sorting the books in the back."

Harry stood up, smiling brightly. "Yeah, have fun with that!"

Neville cracked a genuine smile before heading to the back of the store.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Harry?" Neville's voice filtered up the stairs to the office where Harry did the bookkeeping for the store. "Deliveries are here."

Harry finished up tallying the numbers and marked his place in the ledger before heading down to help Neville with the unpacking of the boxes.

"Right," he smiled at Neville once he had arrived in the back of the shop and found his business partner and the palate of boxes.

They made short work of sorting the books and sending them to their proper places on the shelves, and Harry set aside a stack of books that had been special ordered.

"Ah," Harry picked up one in particular. "Here's Spellor's book. I'll owl Mr. Snape it's arrived." Harry tucked the book under his arm and made to go to the front of the store.

"Harry," Neville stopped him. "I could do that, you know, if you have other work you need done."

Harry cocked his head, slightly confused. "'S'ok, mate. But thanks," he shook his head slightly as he left Neville to finish disposing of the packing remains.

"Are you working tomorrow?" Neville had followed Harry to the front of the store. "I can watch the shop if, you know, you have things you need to do." He leaned with a not-so-subtle, forced non-chalance against the counter.

Harry did not try to hide his perplexity this time. "Of course I'm working tomorrow. Am I missing something?" His mouth drew up into a nonplussed smile. "Are you trying to get me out of the store?"

Neville's eyes widened guiltily. "No! I just," he floundered. "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything." His cheeks flushed slightly.

Harry shook his head and let out a chuckle. "All right, then. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? You can go on home, I'll lock up."

Neville didn't say anything as he made his way to the door, but he looked back at Harry as he walked out, a strange, guilty look unmasked on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Mr. Snape," Harry smiled as the bell tinkled, announcing the presence of a customer. "I see you received my owl."

Snape nodded curtly. "Yes. Thank you."

"Here you are," Harry brought the book up to rest on the counter. "First edition. Have a look."

Snape picked up the text and felt the cover and the spine. He flipped through the pages, inspecting. Harry was hypnotized by the man's hands, which were long-fingered and pale, strong yet gentle.

"Is there a problem?" Snape looked up and noticed the shopkeeper staring at him.

"Wha-?" Harry's eyes snapped up. "No, of course not. Is the book satisfactory?"

"It is. What do I owe?" Snape set down the book and went for his pocketbook.

"Twenty Galleons," Harry told him. It was a hefty price for a book, but he figured if this man had need of a first edition, he would be aware of the cost.

Snape make out the cheque without batting an eye, signed it with a flourish, and handed it over to Harry. When Harry reached out to take it from him, their fingers brushed and a jolt of electricity passed between them. Snape snatched his hand away.

"Sorry," Harry laughed uncomfortably. "Shop's dry – static electricity builds up. You all right?"

Snape seemed discomfited as well. "Of course," he responded, his eyes going to the book and he reached out to grab it. Harry's hand came down to rest on his wrist before he could pick up the text.

"I-," Harry began. "Would you like to grab some tea?"

Snape snapped his head up, clearly taken aback.

"Oh, I-," Harry picked his hand up, flustered. "I didn't mean to assume…I'm so sorry. I-," he stammered.

Snape picked up the book and gave Harry a cordial smile. "Tea would be acceptable," he saved Harry from his blubbering apologies.

Harry flashed a blinding smile at Snape. "Brilliant! After lunch tomorrow? Two pm at Landry's?"

"I will be there," Snape confirmed with another twitch of a smile. He secured the book under his arm and turned. He looked back and gave one quick nod to Harry before he swirled out of the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Good morning, sir, how may I help you?" The plain receptionist asked politely.

"Hello," the man responded. "I was informed you performed services that may be of interest to me."

"We may," the young woman leaned forward slightly. "What exactly interests you?"

"I have some experiences I wish to forget," the man replied.

She handed him a clipboard with paperwork. "Take a seat and fill this out. You can bring it back up here once you've finished."

The man sat down and began reading through the paperwork. There was quite a bit of it, and it took some time to go through it and answer each question, check off the correct boxes, and sign everywhere that needed a signature. Finally, he returned the completed forms to the reception desk and returned to his seat. He noted with distaste the ashen color of the chairs and garish speckled orange carpet that looked like it might have been able to smooth down even the most stubborn of splintery wood pieces. He was just about to leave because the buzzing fluorescent lighting and accompanying flickering had begun to drive him mad when a voice called his name.

"Mr. Snape?" a pretty young girl held a clipboard and looked around to find who belonged to the name. She nodded when he stood up. "If you could follow me, please."

He was led to a room – this one more tastefully decorated than the waiting area – and sat down in a moderately comfortable chair. Instead of Muggle lighting, this one had windows charmed to let in sunshine, although when he had entered the building, it had been pouring down rain.

"How can we help you today?" she asked, folding her hands on her lap and crossing her legs at the ankles.

"I believe you have my paperwork, there, Miss…" he trailed off.

"Weasley," she supplied. "Ginny. And I do have your paperwork, but we like to hear potential clients explain their needs to us aloud."

Severus harrumphed. "Yes. Well, suffice it to say I was in a relationship for over a year. It ended badly. I wish to never think of it again."

"This course of action seems fairly drastic," Ginny contracted her brows in concern.

"You don't know how badly it ended," Severus retorted with a sneer.

"Yes, well, Mr. Snape, if everyone used our services each time they broke up with a significant other, it would be…" she stopped short. "Our services are quite expensive."

"I am aware of your rates," he waved his hand through the air unconcernedly. "I would not be here could I not afford them."

"Very well," she sighed, and handed over a thick folder. "Please take this packet home and read through it. Once you have completed everything, please Owl us to set up your appointment."

She stood to leave the room, but looked at Severus with something akin to pity. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Whatever she did to you," she began.

Severus cut her off. "He," he corrected. "It was a 'he', and it wasn't solely his fault. Which is part of the reason I wish to never be able to remember it again."

And with that, he rose and brushed past her poorly disguised look of surprise. She followed him out, recovered.

"We'll see you soon, then, Mr. Snape," she called out to him as he opened the door back into the waiting room. He did not acknowledge her before the door closed behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry was walking aimlessly through the park. He liked to go there on Sundays when the shop was closed. He enjoyed people-watching. London was full of a variety of characters, and most of them seemed to want to come to the park on Sundays. Of course, there were normal people there, too. Families, joggers, dog walkers – regular, every-day folk enjoying the nice weather that May in London brings.

Harry meandered off the main way onto a less-travelled path. He'd walked every inch of paved walkway in the park at one time or another, and today this particular path was calling him. As he left the more crowded thoroughfare, he caught a glimpse of a couple sitting together on a bench. The man had fiery red hair and the young woman had brown hair pulled back into a plait. Something about them stirred something in Harry, a feeling like he had lost something, but didn't know quite what it was. He figured it was just that their gentle kisses and whispers to each other reminded him of the dearth that was his dating life. He was still gazing at the couple as he rounded the corner, so he didn't see the man walking briskly toward him. They collided with an 'oof' that sent them both stumbling to the ground. The other man dropped a leather bag that resembled an old-time home physician's bag.

"I am so sorry, sir," Harry apologized immediately and made to help the other man up. The man shook his head and rose on his own, brushing off his trousers. Harry bent over and offered the fallen bag back to the man.

"No, sir, I was not paying close enough attention. This path is usually rather deserted; I was not being as careful as I ought," the man accepted his bag back from Harry with a smile of gratitude.

"Are you a doctor?" Harry asked, nodding toward the bag.

"Oh, no," he shook his head. "No, I own a – an – an apothecary. Homeopathic. I was out gathering samples."

"I hope I haven't ruined any of them," Harry winced. "Do you think any of them might have been damaged by the fall?"

The man got a look in his eyes that Harry almost thought looked like someone enjoying an inside joke. "Ah, no," he shook his head again. With his free hand he tucked a long strand of fine, black hair behind his ear. "No, they will be fine, thank you."

As they tucked the hair, Harry noticed how slender the fingers looked, and how pale. But he also noticed they were stained, similar to how someone who worked regularly with potions might look. He decided to put out a feeler.

"The Apothecary," he began, "Is it in Diagon Alley?" He figured that if this man was a Muggle, the name Diagon Alley wouldn't mean anything to him and Harry could brush it off, but if this man was a wizard, then it would be an easy way for them both to learn a bit about each other. And this man looked like someone Harry thought he'd like to learn a little more about.

The man's eyes widened infinitesimally before he darted a glance around. "No," he shook his head once he had assured himself they were out of earshot of any passersby. "It's in Maeweather on Stoneground."

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're a long way from home," he pointed out. Maeweather on Stoneground was about as far southwest as one could go in England and not be in Wales.

"Not so far," the man cocked his brow in return.

Harry broke into a smile. "No, I suppose not. Listen, let me buy you a cuppa – the least I can do for bowling you over."

"That's not necessary," the man waved his hand through the air dismissively.

"I insist," Harry asserted. "Please, it will make me feel better."

The man eyed Harry speculatively. "Very well. Do you have a place in mind?"

"There's actually a lovely little place in Liverpool I like to go," he reached out and put his hand on the man's forearm. "Side-along?" he asked.

The man nodded.

"Oh," Harry removed his hand from the man's arm and extended it out for a handshake. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

The man grasped Harry's hand with his own. It was warm and firm, authoritative and sure. Harry decided he liked it very much.

"My name is Severus," he returned. "Severus Snape."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"You're late," Neville stated the obvious as Harry came in through the back door of the shoppe.

"Bit of a late night," he grinned sheepishly.

"Early morning, you mean?" Neville smirked.

"You know me too well," Harry grabbed the clipboard off the front counter and began marking the week's new inventory.

"Well, I'm glad for you," Neville turned back around to continue stacking items on the shelves. "'S'been a while since you've had anyone."

"A while might be the grossest understatement of the decade," Harry shook his head.

"Where'd you meet?" Neville asked.

"The park," Harry replied. "Owns a potions shop in Maeweather."

Neville stilled, although Harry, who was absorbed in his inventory task, didn't notice. "What did you say his name was?"

"I didn't," Harry finally turned around to stare at Neville's back. "It's an odd name, actually. Severus. Latin."

"His name is Severus Latin?" Neville turned his head so he could see Harry out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't be daft," Harry rolled his eyes and pressed the clipboard into his torso as he crossed his arms at the wrist over the edge of the board. "Severus is a Latin name. His name is Severus Snape."

Neville stopped breathing.

"You all right?" Harry took a step toward Neville.

"Fine," he answered unconvincingly.

"Is there something wrong with his name? Do you know him or something? It's not a very common name," Harry had walked up to Neville now and had his hands on his hips, clipboard sticking out to one side.

"No, I just…" Neville couldn't think of anything to say. "Just be careful, Harry. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Harry gave a chuckle and clapped Neville on the arm. "Thanks, mate. Good to know I've got someone looking out for me. I'll bring him 'round the shoppe and you can tell me what you think of him then." And with that, Harry resumed his inventory check, leaving Neville standing on the stool in front of the shelves, not realizing that he had stopped working completely and had a look of pained indecision on his face.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: This chapter contains strong language. Please read only if over 18 years old._

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Chapter 8

"That fucking bastard!" Harry screamed as he slammed the door behind him coming into the shop that morning.

"Everything all right, there, Harry?" Neville peeked his face around the corner from the front of the store in alarm.

"No, everything is not bloody well all right," Harry was flushed with anger and nearly shaking with rage.

"Not another fight with him, then?" Neville had come full into the room and leaned up against a far wall while Harry paced.

"We've been together over a year and it's always the same things with him! He goes off to those conferences and refuses to let me come with him, then he sulks when I get suspicious! Then he picks a fight with _me_ about the flirting blokes in the restaurant bar. How the hell was I supposed to know they were hitting on me? I was focused on him! I'm done with him, Neville, I swear it, I'm done."

Neville's face twitched with pain and guilt.

"It's like – I – I just wish I could erase the last fourteen months. I wish I'd never met him. I wish you could just – just Obliviate me, mate, and make him disappear. You wouldn't do that for me, would you?" Harry waved his hand through the air dismissively before Neville had a chance to say anything. "Never mind. Obliviates don't work like that."

"I," Neville began hesitantly, "I think I might know of a place that could help you."

"Help me?" Harry had calmed down enough to be intrigued.

"Help you, you know, forget," Neville gave an uncomfortable shrug. "About Snape. If – if you really want to."

"Yeah," Harry's eyes darkened, "I really want to."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: This chapter contains sexual situations and slash. By continuing reading, you acknowledge you are of age and not offended by the included content._

* * *

_Chapter 9_

The trail of clothes was barely visible in the darkness of the bedroom. Two trousers, two pairs of pants, and a litany of shoes littered the floor. Harry's red shirt dangled off the edge of the bed. The bed in which he was being thoroughly fucked.

Their bodies slid together roughly, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the room. It didn't take them long to finish.

"Fuck," Harry breathed, as the man rolled off of him. "That was bloody brilliant." Harry flopped over onto his back and pushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"Was it?" his partner was still breathing heavily, but the smirk was evident in his voice.

"Yeah, pretty much," Harry turned to look at the man's face in the darkness. The first time sleeping with someone was usually a slightly awkward affair: limbs tangled strangely, wondering if what you were doing was at all enjoyable for the other person, not wanting to say anything when that person did something quite unpleasant to you…It was never this fantastic. Almost like they'd done it before. "I mean, for me. How was it for you?"

"Ah," he paused with a smile, "Quite satisfactory."

Harry grabbed a nearby pillow and smacked it over his lover's head. "Of course you'd say that, Severus, master of the understatement."

Severus grabbed the pillow and threw it on the floor before climbing on top of Harry to exact revenge.


	10. Chapter 10

"Severus, my dear friend, you look positively depressed," Lucius crossed his legs in the armchair and leaned back, steepling his fingers together in front of his chest. "Whatever has come over you?"

Severus sighed, head turned, looking out the window at the rivulets of rain making their way down the glass. "It's Harry," he finally answered.

"Potter," Lucius nodded. "What's he done this time?"

Severus shook his head and looked back at Lucius. "Not just him. Both of us. We've ended it."

Lucius raised a brow.

"I'd had – he'd – we'd both had enough. I didn't have the energy for it anymore." Severus rubbed his hands up and down his face, trying to wipe away the weariness.

"Ah, well," Lucius stood. "In time, you'll forget about him. I'd be happy to help you recover."

Severus scowled, looking up at Lucius. "I'd prefer not to have to tread through the minefield of a 'blind date', if you don't mind."

Lucius chuckled. "Well, have it your way, my friend. But I do wish you the best in – mending. I could see – it was evident how deeply you cared for him."

"I wish I could just forget the entire affair," Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the armchair. "If only there were a potion of sorts…"

Lucius didn't say anything, but twirled his cane in his hands, staring down at it contemplatively. "Not a potion," he began in a low voice, "But I do know of a certain place…"

"A place?" Severus opened one eye, intrigued. "What sort of place?"

"A place that can help you forget about Potter. Permanently." He let the offer hang in the air.

Severus opened the other eye and leaned forward slightly. "Permanently?"


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: This chapter contains sexual situations and slash. By continuing reading, you acknowledge that you are of age and not offended by the included content._

* * *

_Chapter 11_

The trail of clothes was barely visible in the darkness of the bedroom. Two trousers, two pairs of pants, and a litany of shoes littered the floor. Harry's blue shirt dangled off the edge of the bed. The bed in which he was being thoroughly fucked.

Their bodies slid together roughly, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the room. It didn't take them long to finish.

"Fuck," Harry breathed, as the man rolled off of him. "That was bloody brilliant." Harry flopped over onto his back and pushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"Was it?" his partner was still breathing heavily, but the smirk was evident in his voice.

"Yeah, pretty much," Harry turned to look at the man's face in the darkness. The first time sleeping with someone was usually a slightly awkward affair: limbs tangled strangely, wondering if what you were doing was at all enjoyable for the other person, not wanting to say anything when that person did something quite unpleasant to you…It was never this fantastic. Almost like they'd done it before. "I mean, for me. How was it for you?"

"Ah," he paused with a smile, "Quite satisfactory."

Harry turned his back to Severus and grabbed his arm to snake it across his torso. "Of course you'd say that, Severus, master of the understatement."

Severus moved his body closer until his front was flush against Harry's back. He leaned into Harry's hair and inhaled deeply, giving a light kiss before settling down for the night. "I suppose this means you're staying for breakfast?"

Harry snorted and then lightly kicked his heel into Severus's shin.

"Brat," Severus chuckled.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: This chapter contains strong language. Please only proceed if you are of age._

* * *

Chapter 12

"Fuck," Harry swore under his breath as his eyes stared out the store's front window.

"All right, there, Harry?" Neville poked his head out from behind a shelf.

"Yeah," Harry shook his head.

"Is someone out there?" Neville followed Harry's gaze.

"Yeah," Harry tore his eyes away from the window and resolutely looked back down at his weekly inventory list.

"Snape?" Neville sounded resigned.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Is it that obvious?"

"Kind of, yeah," Neville was nearly apologetic.

Harry turned and leaned back against the counter. "I just – I don't know if it's because he's older or I'm younger or what it is, but he's so insecure and suspicious and it's just…never mind," he waved his hand through the air, "I don't want to bore you."

"Are you going to call it off?" Neville continued the conversation.

"Call it – oh, well, I probably should. It's a mistake to try and change people, yeah?" Harry ran his hand through his messy hair. "But I – there's something about him – I – I think I might be in love with him, mate."

Neville bit his lip and winced at the pronouncement.

"I dunno, Neville. I feel like I'm on some sort of carnival ride and it keeps making me sick, but I stay on because the ride's fun. Like I'm a glutton for punishment."

Neville fidgeted.

"It would just be so much easier if I could forget how happy he makes me sometimes, you know? Then I could just walk away. Does that make any sense?"

Neville nodded, eyes still on his fingers, which were picking at each other.

"Have you ever felt that way? Like you know you should leave someone alone because they're no good for you, but you just keep coming back even though it hurts?"

"Yeah," Neville whispered. "Yeah, I have."

"Oh," Harry sounded surprised. "You've never told me about it."

Neville looked up, sadness evident in every feature on his face.

"Sorry," Harry backpedaled, "I didn't mean to pry. Forget I said anything."

"No," Neville's shoulders sank as he exhaled. "It's all right. It's been a long time. I can talk about it now."

Harry hoisted himself up onto the counter and crossed his ankles.

"There was a girl, at school," Neville began.

"At Hogwarts?" Harry interrupted.

Neville nodded. "But you wouldn't – you wouldn't remember her."

"I might," Harry countered. "Try me."

Neville looked for a moment like he might refuse. After several beats, he relented. "Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

Harry contracted his brow in concentration, searching his memories of his school days to connect the name to a face. "Nope, you were right; doesn't ring a bell."

Neville looked relieved. "I loved her. She always stood up for me when – when people picked on me. But she loved someone else. And I knew she would never love me – not like that. But I couldn't stop loving her."

Harry's face was full of sympathy.

"And then when she left school," Neville looked back down at his hands. "When we left school, she made sure I would never find her again. She didn't want to be found."

Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Neville, that's – I'm so sorry. Wow. Did she end up with him? With the one she fancied?"

Neville looked up with an indistinguishable look in his eyes. "No. No, she made sure he couldn't find her, either." His mouth twitched. "Funny how things work out, right?"

"Must be hard," Harry slid off the counter. "I bet you wish you could just forget about her."

Neville leaned down against the counter, forearms pressed against the glass. "Actually, no. The memories of her – they're not all bad. It's like – like the thought for a Patronus, you know? It's not sad, but it's not happy – it's just, strong."

Harry nodded slowly. "I do," he agreed, "I do know."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry and Neville were nearly finished with their errands at Diagon Alley when the snow started to fall. Winter had come early that year and they were both, thankfully, dressed appropriately for the chill. They were headed back to the exit at the Leaky Cauldron when two young children rushed by them, apparently playing some chasing game. Harry jumped back to avoid being run over, and in doing so, bumped into the person behind him.

"Sorry!" he turned to apologize to whomever he had inconvenienced.

"Not your fault," the man smoothed down his cloak, "Unless those rampaging hooligans are yours?"

"No!" Harry answered emphatically. "You're all right, then?" He put his hand up to clasp the man's shoulder, but decided mid-gesture that it would be too informal, so he quickly brought his hand up to run through his hair.

"Fine, thank you," the man answered.

"Harry?" Neville's voice caused him to turn back to his business partner. "We should go."

"Oh, right," Harry nodded. "Well, if you're into books, stop by the store some time," he conjured a business card and held it out to the man, who took it and inspected it. "Maybe we could have a drink or two," he added, forwardly. The man's eyes glanced up in surprise.

"Harry," Neville sounded insistent, "Let's go." It looked as if he was only just restraining himself from dragging Harry away from the man he had bumped.

"Sorry," he acquiesced to Neville's prodding. "Anyway, I'm Harry," he stuck out his hand, "Harry Potter."

The man looked for a moment like he didn't know what to do with the limb outstretched before him. Finally, he put the business card in his pocket and reached out to grasp Harry's hand. "Severus," he shook firmly, twice, before letting go. "Severus Snape."

It seemed Neville could no longer resist, and he put his hand on Harry's arm to pull him away. "Harry," he whispered as he dragged himself and his friend into the nearest store. "Harry you can't have drinks with him. You shouldn't have invited him to the shoppe."

Harry's eyes were wide with confusion. "What're you on about, Neville? What do you mean I can't have drinks with him? Do y'know him or something?"

Neville looked around warily. "Let's go back to the shoppe," he whispered, and before Harry could protest, Neville whisked them both away with the 'pop' of Apparition.

"…off of me!" Harry was shouting as they landed, stumbling, inside the bookstore. He shook off Neville's hand and turned to face him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You can't, Harry," Neville was pleading. "You can't see that man. Please don't. You can get on with anyone else – I don't care, but please not him!"

"Why, in Merlin's name, do you suddenly care so much about my love life?" Harry tore off his cloak and flung it on the hook by the door.

"Because I can't take it anymore!" Neville shouted back. They both froze, shocked at the passion Neville showed.

"Can't take what, Neville?" Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Me going out with other men?"

"No," Neville straightened up and pointed a firm finger toward the store window-front. "Going out with _that_ man."

"I've only just met him! How could you have anything against him? Do you know him or something?" Harry's cheeks were still flushed from a combination of the cold from Diagon Alley and the irritation Neville was causing him.

"Yes," Neville said flatly. "And so do you."

Harry's face began to fill with concern. "Neville, are you feeling all right?"

Neville whipped out his wand, causing Harry to flinch and go for his own wand, but Neville simply cast protection spells around the store, silencing spells, even a Muffilato.

"Paranoid?" Harry wanted to scoff, but couldn't bring himself to do so.

"Listen, Harry," Neville's eyes darted around the room, "I shouldn't be – what I'm about to tell you – I – I could get in a lot of trouble. A _lot_."

"Okay," Harry moved toward the sitting chairs that were in the corner of the front room. "Neville, why don't you sit down?"

"We both should, probably," Neville nodded thoughtfully.

"So," Harry asked patiently, once they were both seated. "What's this all about?"

"Snape, he was our Professor. At Hogwarts – he taught us Potions for five years."

Neville's pronouncement was followed by several beats of silence.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, looking like he was trying very hard to be diplomatic. "Neville, I think I would remember if that man had been my teacher for five years."

"All right," Neville sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Why don't you tell me everything you can remember about your very first Potions lesson?"

Harry closed his eyes and brought that memory to the forefront of his mind. He could see the Potions classroom, see his parchment in front of him, feel the quill in his hand, and he could remember the feelings coursing through him – fear, anger, anxiety.

"Well, I think I hated Potions from the moment I started," he concluded.

"Yeah, but who was your Professor?"

"_Our_ Professor, Neville, we were in class together."

"Fine. _Our_ Professor," Neville shrugged. "In fact, tell me anyone else you remember from class. Besides me."

Harry searched his memory from that day. He could see red and gold from Gryffindor robes and ties; he could see green and silver from Slytherin robes and ties, but... "The faces are fuzzy. You're asking me to remember almost two decades ago!"

"Fine then," Neville pressed. "What about any other year. Don't you think it's odd that I'm the only one you still know from Hogwarts? Where are all our other classmates?"

Harry began to get agitated. "I don't know, mate, probably off living their lives somewhere. I don't keep track of every single person I went to school with."

"Can you name even one?"

Harry stared at him dumbly.

"Do you remember Hermione?"

Harry frowned, shaking his head infinitesimally.

"What about R – Ron?" Neville choked slightly on the name. "Or Ginny?"

Harry's face was blank as he shook his head at each name Neville rattled off.

"Things happened, Harry. Things you didn't want to remember. Things no one wanted to remember."

"I don't understand, Neville," Harry spoke slowly and very softly. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Look, I know you don't believe me. That's the whole point – you don't remember. But I can't watch you get hurt again. And that's what'll happen. You'll be with Snape and everything will be bloody brilliant before it turns bloody awful and then you'll beg me to help you forget him – and I will." Neville was staring at his lap. "I will. Because I care about you and I hate to see you hurt. But I can't do it anymore. I can't keep doing it. I know this doesn't make any sense – but I can show you," he raised his head to look at Harry. "Tonight. I'll show you. I'll take you there and we'll – I don't know, we'll break in and I'll show you your file. I'm sure they have files."

Harry seemed like he had no clue how to handle what he clearly thought were Neville's delusions. "All right," he sighed. "But we need to go there right now, first – so I can see the place during the day time. I'll need to have some idea of how we're going to get in there."

Neville stood and held out his hand. "Better bring your cloak," he said as his own flew into his hand.


	14. Chapter 14

"Does this look familiar?" Neville asked Harry once they'd walked around the quiet neighborhood for a while.

"No," Harry answered. "Should it?"

"Yeah," Neville turned to look at Harry. "I think you've been here four or five times."

Harry's head snapped to look at Neville. "Four or five?"

Neville shrugged. They had stopped in front of a non-descript, one-story building. It had faded, peeling paint on the outside that suggested it had at one point been white. It didn't look dilapidated or unsafe, simply worn. Harry resisted the urge to go inside.

"Well, well," a voice behind the two men caused them to jump. "What have we here?"

Neville and Harry turned around and Harry could hear Neville's breathing pick up audibly.

"Nothing, I – my friend here has just been through a break up and I thought – I think he might have need of your services," Neville's voice cracked at the end and he swallowed hard.

"Is that so?" the man extended his hand toward Harry. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr…."

"Potter," Harry reached out to shake the gloved hand. "Harry. So you own this business, Mr…"

"Malfoy," his lips curled into what Harry thought could be classified as an evil smile. "Lucius Malfoy."

"Well, perhaps I'll see you again, Mr. Malfoy," Harry dropped Lucius's hand. "Neville here has spoken highly of your services."

"I'll look forward to seeing you, then," Lucius inclined his head and brushed by them, entering the building.

Once he was inside and the door had closed behind him, the men looked at each other and nodded, Harry grasping Neville's arm and Apparating them back to the book store.

::

"Look, mate," Harry was pacing and running his hands through his hair. "I may think you're mad about this, but there is something off about that man. I don't know what it is, but I'm of a mind to find out. You said we can go there tonight?"

Neville nodded.

"And you said that I have been with this – with Severus before?"

"Snape," Neville nodded.

"Why'd'you call him that?" Harry paused in his pacing. At Neville's guilty look, Harry waved it off. "Never mind. Can you send him an Owl? Maybe he should be there, too."

"I don't know, Harry…" Neville squirmed.

"We could at least invite him. Do you know where he lives?" Harry turned to face Neville and scrutinized his face for a moment. "You do. Where does he live, Neville?"

Neville tried to hold out but gave up quickly. "Spinner's End," he looked at the floor as he spoke, his shoulders hunching in defeat.

Harry peeled out of the room to get some parchment.


	15. Chapter 15

"Do you think he'll be here?" Harry whispered in the dark.

"How should I know?" Neville asked timidly.

There was the tell-tale sound of Apparition just steps away from them.

"Do you care to explain what this is all about?" Snape held the Owl in his hand, clearly perturbed.

"Look," Harry kept his voice low. "I know you don't really know me from Godric, but there's something fishy going on here, and I think we're a part of it but just don't know it. I figured you deserved the chance to find out."

Snape folded the parchment and tucked it in his cloak. "And what, pray tell, are you planning on doing this evening?"

"Breaking in," Harry whispered as he drew his wand and advanced on the building.

::

"I found them," Harry called in the loudest whisper he could manage. "The files are in here!"

He waited until Snape and Neville found him and they went to the wall together, which was covered floor-to-ceiling with shelves of files.

"_Accio_ Harry Potter file," Harry called softly; immediately, he heard a rustling, and a cream-colored folder flew into his hand.

Harry opened it up and began to flip through the pages upon pages of his own history.

_Harry James Potter_

_Treatment 1, 30 June, 1998 _

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of J. Potter and L. Evans Potter, all memories of familiar (Hedwig), all memories of S. Black, all memories of R. Lupin, all memories of Last Battle at Hogwarts, all memories of A. Dumbledore, all memories of any Weasely family member, all memories of H. Granger, all memories of S. Snape, and all memories of any Dursley family member_

_Treatment 2, 13 March, 2000_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of classmates from Hogwarts if members of Slytherin House, all memories of housemates from Hogwarts if deceased (see: S. Finnegan, D. Thomas, L. Lovegood, add'l entries on p.388 of Hogwarts 1992-1998 file), and all memories of S. Snape_

_Treatment 3, 8 November, 2003_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of S. Snape_

_Treatment 4, 20 April, 2006_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of members of Gryffindor House Quidditch team members and all memories of S. Snape_

_Treatment 5, 15 August, 2009_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of S. Snape_

Harry snapped the folder shut and looked up at Neville and Snape.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

They lost track of time as they went through the files.

_Hermione Jean Granger_

_Treatment 1, 15 June, 1998_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of R. Weasley (deceased) and all memories of any Hogwarts contemporary affiliated with R. Weasley or any member of Weasley family._

_Ginevra Weasley_

_Treatment 1, 22 June, 1998_

_Patient wishes to remove all memories of R. Weasley (deceased), F. Weasley (deceased), any individuals affiliated with the Weasley family, and all memories H. Potter and any person associated with H. Potter_

They went on and on. They became so engrossed that they were oblivious to their surroundings.

"Dear me," a voice startled them. "What a delightful surprise!"

"You!" Harry leapt to his feet, dropping the folder he was perusing and pointing an accusing finger at Lucius Malfoy. "You did this! You stole these memories!"

Lucius laughed coldly. "Stole, golden boy? I think not. Each person with a file in this room begged - _begged -_ for me to remove the memories that caused them so much pain."

"You can't do this!" Harry advanced on Lucius.

"Oh, but I have. And it is sanctioned by the Ministry – many of them clients, coincidentally," Lucius unconcernedly twirled his cane between his hands.

"How does it work?" Snape joined the conversation.

"Excellent question, my friend," Lucius looked up at Snape. "Oh, but I am sorry – you wouldn't know that anymore. I had some cleaning up to do with you."

Snape and Harry and Neville all exchanged looks.

"What we do is very much akin to modifying a memory in a Pensieve. We carve out the people, sounds, anything you wish to forget. We blur faces, muffle voices, sometimes take certain things out completely. Then we put the memories back together. A bit like…Muggle surgery, I suppose." Lucius clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly toward the trio. "I do feel for you," he drawled, "for all my clients – to have so much sorrow and pain that you would be willing to literally slice it out of your mind. But I suppose it does work. Doesn't it, Snape? Potter? Pity you hadn't even had a chance to play out your tragic little story yet again."

"Wha – what does that mean?" Harry backed up against the wall, trying in vain to move further away from Lucius, who by now had his wand out and pointed at the three of them.

"Oh," Lucius waved his wand and Harry found himself immobilized – he assumed the others were in a similar predicament. "I think you can guess," he smirked like a cat caught in the cream. "Don't bother trying anything wandless – the grounds are completely warded against your magic now."

Harry's breathing began to accelerate with each step Lucius took toward him.

"Going to kill us, then?" he steeled himself for the flash of green.

"Oh, my, Potter. Still melodramatic as always, I see." He tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, no. I'm not going to kill you." He moved his wand among his three prisoners, deciding who would be first. "Don't worry," he purred as he decided on Harry. "This won't hurt a bit."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The bell tinkled as the door to the book store opened. Harry looked up to see a tall, rather striking man walk through the door.

"Can I help you, sir?" Harry asked politely.

"Yes," the deep baritone carried easily through the store. "I am in need of _Ancient Theories of Potion Making, 500-999 A.D._," he explained.

"Not in stock," Harry apologized, "But I can order it and have it here by Monday. Will that do?"

The man nodded.

"Name and post?" Harry queried as he got out parchment and quill to take down the order.

"Snape, Severus. Spinner's End."

"Excellent, Mr. Snape. I'll Owl you when it's arrived."

Snape nodded and turned to leave the store. On his way out he nearly ran into the man who was coming in.

"Can I help you, sir?" Harry asked the nervous-looking man. _Perhaps he was lost?_ Harry thought to himself.

"Saw the 'Help Needed' sign in the window," he stated. "I've come in to apply."

"Brilliant!" Harry smiled and made his way around the counter, extending his hand to shake the other man's in greeting. "Harry Potter; I own the shoppe."

"Neville," the man replied. "Neville Longbottom."

:::FIN:::

_Yes, yes, really 'FIN'. ;)_


End file.
